


Music and lacktherof

by SomewhereSomedayMaybe



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: But not that bad, First Meetings, Love Confessions, M/M, Requited Love, Size Difference, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 17:29:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29904582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomewhereSomedayMaybe/pseuds/SomewhereSomedayMaybe
Summary: After a late night phone call, an awkward livestream, and a superficial misunderstanding, Dream and George realize they don't really know anything about each other, and set out to change that.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Kudos: 23





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this chapter is gonna be pretty short, but yeah! be nice <3

George likes listening to music. Everyone likes listening to music, but if George is honest with himself, it consumes his life a bit. When he was younger, he was smart. You might not have noticed from his grades, but his parents knew. Neither of them had gotten much of an education, but they knew their kid was smart, and thought he was going to be different. Since he was really little, they told him that. In school he got decent grades, but he got into a boarding school with a decent scholarship nonetheless. It was there he got into music. George could not sing for his life, he tried to play the saxophone once and dearly fainted, but he still loved music. Didn’t know shit about it, but he liked it nonetheless.

He had this theory that listening to music made everything stand still for a second. Like, not really, but in his own head. Like for some reason the beats and the rhythms synced up with his brain or heartbeat or some shit like that, and it just became part of him. 

All of this to say, when George hears Dream talk, he feels the same way. George tries not to think about it much, because he goes all embarrassed, because it’s shitty and cliché, but the thought never really goes away. Whenever he’s on a call with Dream, he just forgets to speak sometimes. He drifts along with the voice, and just lets go for a moment. 

At the moment, George is sitting talking to Dream at an ungodly hour but neither seems to care. It’s one of the rare moments when neither one of them has to do something, or has somewhere they need to go.

Dream is smiling through his voice, and George hears it and instinctively smiles back, neither one caring about the topic of the conversation, as long as they were talking.

George isn’t tired at all right now, but he says he could fall asleep any minute now, and Dream laughs on the other end, but slowly. Like an “I’m glad you’re here” kind of laugh. As if he was laughing to prove that he existed, and that he was real, and George appreciated it, but still felt a bit hollow knowing the true distance between them. A laugh doesn’t make up for the ocean and thousands of miles, and even though Dream and George both knew it, neither one was willing to say anything. So for now, George laughs back, just as slow, just as calm.

“I miss you,” He says. Dream says “I miss you too.” George tries to think of a better word that “says,” but it just fits. He isn’t sad, there isn’t anything to miss. They’ve never had more than this, so it’s kind of happy, in a weird way. Like the lack of something to miss is a good thing. 

They go quiet for a moment, and it’s ok. The kind of silence neither one wants to or knows how to fill. George swears it’s some kind of music.


	2. The stream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream wakes up lonely and impulsively streams.

When Dream woke up, it was 7:30 in the morning despite going to sleep two hours earlier. Patches was lying there on his stomach, asleep, the blinds closed, and no sign of anything that could have woken him up. He had always had this problem, when he woke up he could never go back to sleep. And by the looks of things, today was going to be one of “those” days. Sapnap was still asleep in the room across the hall, and George had just gone to sleep has well so there wasn’t anyone to talk to. 

Dream knew this wasn’t a bad thing, it wasn’t malicious that no one was awake, but he couldn’t help feeling a bit hurt. Dream didn’t like when everything was quiet. Well, sometimes he did. Sometimes he could only think when everything is quiet, but today he already found himself thinking too much. Rolling out of bed, he already felt awake. Dream was like that, never needed coffee, redbull, or any of those monster drinks his friends loved. He liked herbal tea- not even the caffeinated kind. Got some shit for it, but honestly, Dream couldn’t care less. His grandma used to make tea for him when he was little. He tries to think of why that is relevant to his current situation, and fails spectacularly, the thought still hanging in his head.

I could stream, he thinks. People’ll show up. I haven’t done a solo stream in ages. This way he can talk, or hear something, it doesn’t really matter, he just wants to stop thinking about his grandmother or wherever his mind is going. 

It takes a minute to boot up his computer, and he actively chooses not to make tea.

The screen lights up after longer than it should have taken for the screen to light up, and Dream breathes a sigh of relief he hadn’t realized he was holding in. He begins to set up his stream through muscle memory, as Patches, removed from her warm spot on Dream’s chest, wakes up. 

Dream smiles at her, and she stretches in return. There was something about caring for her that made Dream feel good. Like nurturing was some instinct in him that only came out with Patches. And George. Dream brushes that thought away, as he opens up minecraft, and starts his stream. He doesn't tweet anything out, he’ll let people find it if they’re already on twitch. He doesn’t really care how many people show up.

The stream was strained. He gets a ping on discord from Sapnap asking if he’s up about an hour after he started, and Dream snickers and responds, “we live in the same house.” Immediately getting a response back, “I know,” and Dream expects something to follow, but nothing comes.

Dream, knowing he means no harm, tries to ignore it, but it really doesn’t help. He knows he has no right to feel this way, but he does, and he’s streaming for about ninety thousand people. He realizes now that he hasn’t talked for almost ten minutes, sitting in silence. He gets a flood of pings from his friends and mods telling him he hasn’t spoken, and he almost feels glad to have people talking to him. He knows it’s kind of sad, but he really doesn’t care. He ends the stream a few minutes later, ignoring his discord messages.


	3. The fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They have a fight, it'll be okay though.

George wakes up late, after a night of full sleep, to a ridiculous number of texts from his friends asking if Dream was okay. He asks himself why he would know, and logs onto twitter to sleuth out what happened. It didn’t take him long to find the vod, ten straight minutes of Dream doing nothing. 

George knows Dream better than he knows anyone else, but he just doesn’t understand some things about the other man. He doesn’t know why this happens, it’s not the first time, sometimes when they’re doing something together, he just stops, like he forgets he exists. George has always been okay with it, but to be honest, he isn’t. George isn’t outgoing, he doesn’t have a lot of real friends. Not that Dream and Sapnap aren’t real friends, he just, can’t really know them. They exist across the world, and they experience everything differently. They love each other, and George tells both of them everything. Like friends, but not real ones. He can’t talk to them when he’s lonely, because it’s too late for them, he doesn’t even know what Dream looks like. It doesn’t matter, but still. 

Sapnap is an open book. He’ll tell you anything if you ask. George knows Sapnap. Dream is a different beast altogether. He’ll talk about his family, his childhood, and all that, but he doesn’t talk about himself. He’ll never talk about how he feels, or why he does what he does. It’s alright, George tells himself, that he doesn’t really know Dream.

And still, George knows Dream better than anybody else that he knows. When Dream has a nightmare, he calls George. When Dream has a good meal, he tells George. But Dream doesn’t tell George what the nightmare was about, or why he was eating out, or with who. 

George ignores it, but calls Dream anyways. He wants to talk to someone, he doesn’t want to just sit here, anxious by himself. Dream answers immediately, and something inside of George feels light. “Hey,” he says. “So I saw the vod, you okay?” 

Dream huffs, and grumbles a quiet “yeah.”

“I just wanna make sure you’re alright, that wasn’t the usual you.”

Dream pauses for a second. “It kind of is.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve always been like this, how have you not noticed?” George hears some anger swelling in Dream’s voice and it hurts.

George feels hollow. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. I’m just not… y’know.”

Before thinking, George replies, hoping it comes out softly. “Actually, I really don’t.” Shit, that sounded harsh, he thinks to himself. “Wait shit, sorry, I didn’t mean it like that I-”

“Well how did you fucking mean it?” When Dream gets angry, George never knows what to do.

“I don’t know, I’m sorry.” George hopes that will do.

Apparently it isn’t. “No, what do you mean. I want to know.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it. I just don’t…” George feels himself fucking up, but continues nonetheless.

“‘You don’t’ what.” George knows he’s about to make things worth, but he decides to push forward anyways. 

“I don’t know you. Like I never know anything about you. You’re just there, and we talk, but I never know what goes on inside your head.”

“Well you aren’t much better, I don’t know shit about you. I don’t know what you’re family is like, if you even fucking HAVE a family-”

“Oh do NOT get me started on any of this I don’t even know your face-”

“I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT YOUR LIFE IS LIKE,” Dream practically shouts into the mic, Neither har even raised their voices yet, and George sits in awe. 

George thinks to himself, I don’t really have one, do I. but he doesn’t say that, because he can’t open his mouth. He tries, but he can’t. 

“I didn’t mean-” George hears Dream try to semi apologize and hangs up. This will be a problem for another day. He just fucking woke up.

George gets back in bed. He feels so fucking lazy lying there, like the memes on twitter. He feels like a caricature, but he can’t find it in himself to care enough to change anything.


	4. the benefit of housemates

Dream feels bad for what he said, but stands by it. When Sapnap knocks on his door for what was supposed to be dinner, he doesn’t respond. They hadn’t talked all day, but that’s normal for them. They just don’t talk, sometimes. Today, he doesn’t go away when Dream doesn’t respond. He stays there, asking if his best friend was alright. Finally, Dream lets him in.

Sapnap is the kind of guy who gives everyone the benefit of the doubt. No matter how many times they were unreliable, or whatever. Like a puppy, Dream thinks. 

When Dream opens the door, Sapnap looks powerful. Like a rock. His face is solid, making eye contact right through Dream, who can barely hold the gaze. “George called me,” he said. “Are you alright?”

Dream met Sapnap when they were teenagers. He’s seen Sapnap, no, Nick at his lowest. When they met Nick could barely hold a conversation. He was a nervous wreck, who could barely keep himself steady, let alone anyone else. Dream wasn’t any better back then, but still. Seeing Nick standing there broke something in him, tackling the shorter man in a hug.

Sapnap stood there confused out of his mind, but he hugged back. Dream saw this, and it made him want to hug his housemate even harder. Soon, Sapnap pulled him off with an “alright, that’s enough.” and Dream realized he was crying.

“Shit,” he says, “I, um didn’t realize how much that affected me-”

Sapnap smiles looking straight through him, holding his ground. “Hey, it’s alright. I just wanna make sure you’re okay. I talked to George earlier-” Hearing George’s name made Dream flinch. “He’s alright. He’s angry at you, but he’s alright.”

Dream keeps standing there, not sure what to say. Nick takes that as a sign to keep going. “And he- he thinks he doesn’t know you, at least not the same way I know you, and he knows me. Like, you guys never figured that stuff out.”

Dream knows Sapnap’s right, but he scowls at it anyway. “Well, what do you want me to do about it then.”

Sapnap doesn’t back down. “You guys need to talk. For real.”

“You know I’m terrible at wording things,” Dream semi protests, trying to get some humor into the conversation, and Nick rolls his eyes playfully in response. “You’ll be fine, Clay. 

They smile, and Dream nods, breaking their eye contact. He doesn’t say anything except mouthing a thank you, and Nick sees himself out. 

Sitting back on his bed, overrun with emotion, Dream opens his laptop, and opens a blank document. He titles it, George, and he writes until Nick knocks on his door three hours later with some tea.


	5. They talk!

When George got a call from Dream the last thing he had expected was an apology. In fairness, it wasn’t an apology, it was some weird Dream-ism of a “we both need to do better,” and George accepted whatever it was. He told Dream to go to sleep, and that it was late, but he didn’t leave. They didn’t really have anything to say, but George honestly didn’t want to hang up either. They don’t say anything for a bit, until Dream cuts the silence with an “I love you,” and George smiles to himself and says “I know.” Dream laughs and says “No one likes an arrogant bastard,” which George laughs out loud at because if anything, Dream is the arrogant bastard between the two of them.

George gets the feeling that Dream is just glad to hear his laugh, and he likes that. Like it was contagious, through thousands of miles. “I love you too.” George whispers, and Dream stops laughing and just kind of giggles, like a kid. “I know,” Dream says, and George knows he doesn’t really know, but he really hopes he could. Maybe this would be the first step, talking on the phone at a time neither one should be awake for.

They laugh, and they both know what “I miss you” really meant. It wasn’t really missing the other, or the time they spent together, but the way they felt like kids whenever they talked. It was like highschool, without being outed, without being picked on ruthlessly, just the sleepovers, and the first dates. George realized talking to Dream made him feel like he didn’t have to share every little detail about himself, because they would be friends either way. They didn’t need to know each other, but George thought to himself, maybe they both want to. 

So he says it, and Dream agrees, and George says something snide, and Dream laughs. It doesn’t really matter, as long as it’s them. Dream tells George about his conversation with Sapnap, about the writing to some theoretical George for three hours, and George listens. George tells Dream about feeling dumb, and tired, and Dream listens. And Dream says “I want to see you face to face.” And George says “I want to see your face.” And Dream laughs, and says, “yeah. Soon. We really should meet up, it’s really time.” George grins and says “Yeah, that sounds really nice,” but it didn’t sound nice, because nice is too small of a word. It sounded amazing, wonderful, and crazy, and all of them combined. It sounds like everything and anything, and George cannot wait.


End file.
